In His Eyes
by onceuponabloodynight
Summary: Peeta's view of Hunger Games...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: **

So.. I'm still in dazed with Catching Fire and so I wanted to vent some of my giddiness... and this was the result... LOL...

I've always wondered what Peeta thinks of all this... I mean the story is mainly focused to Katniss' POV... not that was a bad idea... but I just want to know Peeta's side...

This must have been an overused idea... but I just need to let this out... gwarsh... and this is my first Hunger Games fan fiction so take it easy on me... please...

**Disclaimer: **Hunger Games Trilogy is owned by Suzanne Collins.

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I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to shield myself from the light. I toss myself to the side and cover my face with my arm; trying to get some more sleep.

A hand shook me urgently and I have to choice but to open my eyes and start the day.

I saw my mother shutting my windows close and I stare dumbly at her. My mother is not a bad person but she is certainly not this kind of gentle unless...

Of course, today is the reaping. Every year, the capitol would gather all the children ages 12 to 18 at the square where a boy and a girl would be picked to fight in an arena to death. It is the way of reminding the districts of 1 to 12 of the uprising that happened before. The capitol, I think, just wants to tell us that they have a hold to us, that they can manipulate us and we can never do something about it.

Of course these kinds of thoughts only run through my head. My mother made sure of that. Because if you say something against the Capitol, they will surely make you pay for it.

I watched my mother paced urgently back and forth and it was only when she left that I rise from my bed and went to the bath. The bath relaxes me a little, but of course today is the reaping; no one could ever relax until this day is over.

I went downstairs to meet my family for breakfast. Even with the reaping, my mother makes sure we eat together. She especially makes sure of it at the day of the reaping. She said we could never tell when our table would be missing one person.

My mother, she is strict and almost cruel. But she isn't all that I assure you. Most people would say she looks down at people, and somehow she is, but she does that only to avoid getting in trouble, though I have no idea what she means with trouble. We all are in trouble already. She does lift a hand on us and has an iron hand, a bit bitter too, but it must have been because of the life she has been living. The life in Twelve is a life where you scavenge for food every minute and always in a rush for safety.

I sat at the vacant seat and quietly observe my family. My two brothers, they're eyes are too serious, too vacant; like they have seen too much cruelty and misery. I can still remember when we were younger; my brothers would prank our mother and put the blame on me. And all the while they are doing that, they have that mischievous glint in their eyes. It was a surprise our mother never caught them, they're good liars.

But then it was gone when my eldest brother went to the reaping. He smiled less; talk less, the glint in his eyes gone. I didn't know why at first, until my second brother went to the reaping too, and the same process happened to him. Now I know why mother and father had that sadness and emptiness in their eyes. The Capitol corrupted them. But I swear to myself I won't be changed by the Capitol; I would remain as I am, whatever happened.

"Why aren't you eating much Peeta?" my father's worried voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"I'm not really that hungry." I said with small smile. The truth is, I just don't want eat; I don't have the appetite to.

"You should eat." He said, giving me a knowing glance. I did as I was told. Food in Twelve is really hard to come by; one should not waste a properly good meal.

My father is the very opposite mother. He is kind and gentle. He still smiles a little and offers help. He taught me almost everything I know and somehow people think I'm just like him. I hope I am.

I finished my food and quickly went to the kitchen. Baking has been my passion ever since my father thought me how to do so. It had become my calming line when I feel the urge to break down or burst out. I also do it when I'm happy and I can't or won't tell it to anybody.

I baked for a few hours, decorated some cakes until I find the need to shower again and prepare myself from the impending doom. It's almost one o'clock and I need to be at the square at this very time.

My family all went to the square for the reaping. My father, mother and oldest brother bid my older brother and I goodbye midway to the square. They have to find a suitable and comfortable place; meaning the farthest away from the square as possible. The reaping is not actually an eye-candy and I don't blame them for wanting go get away from it.

My brother and I signed in and I found myself in the pool of sixteen years old. I balled my fist tighter. Being born from the richer side of the town, I was not as unfortunate as the Seam kids who had dozens of names in the bowl but one cannot be so relaxed. It's slim, but there's still the chance I get to be picked.

Effie Trinket, the Capitol's representative to Twelve and the escort of the tributes to the hunger games was there, the mayor was also there looking as uncomfortable as ever. Haymitch Abernathy, Twelve's only living victor. In the history of Twelve, there had only been two victors.

The event was having its usual routine. The mayor would say something, Effie with her high pitched voice would greet us with her usual, "Happy hunger games and may the odds be ever in your favour."

My hands are being numb from the tightness of my hold. I can feel my stomach churning into knots. Well, it's a tradition that girls are to be picked first.

I wait for the name. I am almost sure that her name would be called. I silently chanted her name to not be called. And I almost fall from shock if my feet aren't rooted to the ground.

My prayers were heard but another doom just need to pop up. Because the one that was called was Primrose Everdeen.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review... :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes: **Another chapter...

I don't really like Mrs. Mellark to be bad guy... so I tried to justify her actions...

And I'm too lazy to name them... maybe I'll name them when I find the right name for them...

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It wasn't that I ever talked to Primrose Everdeen. Sure, I did talk to her for exchanging goods; my bread for her milk or cheese, but beyond that, no, we don't really have much interaction.

But it is Prim. The Prim everyone in Twelve cannot help but love. Her innocence and sincerity always so present, one cannot really hold a grudge against her. Even my mother isn't that harsh to her as she was to the other Seam kid.

Besides, she is her sister. She is Katniss Everdeen's sister. The whole town knows Katniss loved Prim so much; she would do anything for her beloved sister.

She is only twelve years old. She barely even started her life, how can they be so cruel? I know this is so wrong, but... the Capitol is winning. The Capitol is right. What can we do about it? They are the ones in power.

I wish there's something I can do. Oh, there is. If I get picked, I would do anything to make sure Prim makes it out alive. That is if I get picked. Still, I don't feel comfortable with the idea.

Maybe I should volunteer then. But I'm not really that brave to volunteer. I am still so selfish. So self-centred.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!" I snapped out of my train of thoughts when I heard that familiar voice. I would recognize that voice, anywhere or everywhere. I hope I was only imagining things, really hoping it wasn't her.

"Katniss!" Prim's voice shouted. I saw Prim run up to Katniss. Oh why does she have to do something irrational? Family devotion only extends until the reaping.

But I guess Katniss really loved Prim so much even the hunger games could never do something about it. It was one of the reasons I fell for her.

Yes, I do love Katniss Everdeen.

I saw a tall male, Seam-like guy grabbed Prim from Katniss. I know that guy to always be with Katniss. They are hunting partners, or maybe even more. I don't really know.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister, wasn't it?" Effie said trying to break the tension and excitement that was currently reigning in Twelve. I tune out whatever she was about to say. I'm sure it's something nasty.

I just stared blankly at Effie as she smiled expectantly towards the crowd. Seconds pass and Effie's smile is slowly fading from her lips. Suddenly, something unexpected happen.

It started with one, then another until the whole crowd touched the middle finger of their left hand to their lips and hold it out for Katniss. It was an old and rare gesture of Twelve but I recognized it. It was an old tradition in funerals; a sign of adoration, thanks and goodbye to someone they love. I quickly and enthusiastically imitate the crowd. At least this unexpected part of the reaping will show that we aren't just pieces of the Capitol's game, that they can't control us.

"Look at her. Look at her." Haymitch exclaimed. Now the crowd's attention was on the former victor but I kept my gaze at Katniss.

"I like her! Lots of spunk! More than you! More than you!" And he dives out of the stage. It was a big commotion but I have more important things to think of right now, like Katniss.

I know she was trying so hard to contain her emotion but the gesture of the residents of District 12 was just too overwhelming. I know she was waiting for a moment for the cameras to move the attention from her and she got it when Haymitch was humiliated in front of the large crowd.

"What an exciting day!" Effie blurted, "But more excitement to come. It's time to pick the boy tribute." She declared with a smile.

Suddenly, I felt nauseous and nervous. I almost forgot about having a male tribute because of the ruckus on Katniss's volunteerism.

"Peeta Mellark!" What? It can't be me, right? Why? Why me?

I saw the crowd part from me and I kept myself stoic but it's really hard. I move towards the stage and I can see Katniss was shocked. Why would she? It's not like she knows me? I do know her, everyone does. But me... I'm pretty sure she just knows me as the baker's son.

It's not like we interacted. The only interaction we had that I can really remember was only that time. We did not even spoke that day and I don't think she remember it either.

It was a few months after Mr Everdeen's death when I encountered her. It was a very cold day and rain was pouring harshly on District Twelve.

I saw her outside the bakery, hunting the trash for food. I feel my heart wrenching of pain from seeing her suffering like that. I wanted to help her so badly.

There's only one way I know I can do it. I tried to distract my mother from seeing her. I know my mother would lash out on her if she would see her. But my best effort wasn't good enough, my mother saw her.

My mother kept screaming on her. I saw her scrambling away from our family store. I stood behind my mother, watching her and calculating my next moves. Maybe she has seen me because for a moment our eyes met. For her, I must have appeared loathsome and cowardly. And I did feel like one at that very moment.

My mother got back to the bakery, grumbling about troublesome Seam kids and she ordered me back to the bakery with her. But I stood my ground. I know that if I don't help Katniss and just let her die in starvation, I would die with her. It was dramatic, yes but that was what I genuinely feel at that moment.

My gaze still trained at her as she crawled behind the pig pen. She looked so hopeless and she gave up all hopes. I tightened my fist and I let my resolve strengthen before I get back to the bakery.

I get back to my work but the image of Katniss and my resolve kept coming to my mind. And just as my mother turned around to attend to something else, I threw two loaves of bread in the stove. My mother screamed profanities at me and hit me but I don't care. All I was thinking was that I should not let the bread burn entirely or my efforts would come to naught.

I ran outside and hurried towards the pen, careful not to let my mother see her. My feet sloshed the mud that the rain had built up on that very day.

"Feed it to the pigs, you stupid creature. Why not? No one decent will buy that burned bread." My mother shouted at me.

I know my mother was still looking at me and to assure her I feed the bread to the pigs, I toss a chunk of the bread to the trough. When the bell of the bakery rang, indicating that my mother went back inside, I silently sighed. But to be sure, I glance to the bakery again. When I was sure no one is watching me; I tossed the bread to the direction of the suffering girl. I can't even look at her. I feel like a coward that I can't even bring the bread to her myself. I ran back to the bakery as soon as I have done my task. I breathed a sigh of relief. Now all I can do is for Katniss to accept the bread and try to live again. If I had to, I would burn the bread every day for her.

'But what if Katniss wouldn't accept it? Folks from the Seam don't really like to have gratitude with anyone. What if she thinks I was expecting something in return in exchange of the bread?' I kept myself busy thinking all throughout the rest of the day.

It was until school came and I saw her walking down the halls that I felt relaxed. She radiates again. I wanted to talk to her but I don't know how to, so I pretended I didn't know her or what happened the day before. I kept talking to my friends who kept asking how I got my swelling face; I would just laugh at them and try to change the subject. Once she's out of earshot, I would stare at her back and admire her from afar.

After school, I saw her as she was about to take Prim from school. I didn't know I was staring at her, not until she stared back as well. I didn't know what to do so I turned myself away. I shouldn't have done that. I should have approached her, maybe that way we could have been friends. But now, that would be impossible because we are about to get thrown in an arena to fight to death. How am I supposed to talk to her when she keeps on thinking of ways to eliminate me or ways I would eliminate her?

Knowing her from all those years of observing her, Katniss is a survivor and she loves Prim very much. She would surely do anything for her sister, even if that means I have to die.

Not that I would put up a fight to that. My life isn't as significant as hers. Yes, my family will mourn over my death but they will move one. In her case, both her mother and Prim needs her. Besides, how could I ever harm the woman I so badly want to protect? The woman I love so much it hurts?

We shook hands after the Mayor's very long speech. I can feel her fire radiating from her but I can also feel her almost trembling hands. I squeeze her hand a little, trying to reassure her.

We faced the crowd as we sang the anthem of Panem. And all through it all, I kept thinking how I would help Katniss to be kept safe.

But how could I keep her safe if keeping her safe would mean my death?

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**A/N: Thanks for the read! Review?**


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